


Reciprocation

by GreyMichaela



Series: Never Ever [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Job, Cas gives back, Cuddles, Don't say I didn't warn you, M/M, No seriously shmoop ahoy, Oh look things got shmoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part two of what was started in Never Ever.  Cas returns the favor of the blow job that Dean gave him and then things get even more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reciprocation

**Author's Note:**

> So...part II. In which the author bites her nails nervously and thinks of a thousand things she could have done better/differently. Comments or kudos are always welcomed but thanks for reading, regardless! Also many thanks to bigblackhorse4 again, for her stellar beta-ing skills and steadfast encouragement. You are the bomb, always.

Castiel woke up the next morning alone.  He stretched, listening for sounds from the bathroom, but quickly realized he was the only one there.  The sun slanting through the small window told him it was still quite early.  He propped himself on his elbows and glanced around. Dean’s things were gone; his jacket and boots and laptop were nowhere to be seen.

That was that, then.  Clearly, Dean had panicked sometime in the night and managed to sneak out without waking Castiel. Although how he’d missed the Impala’s throaty rumbling, he wasn’t sure.

Cas flopped back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. It had been too much to hope for, really, that Dean was okay with such a radical shift in his personal beliefs.

He couldn’t regret last night, though.  He remembered every detail in shining clarity, every touch of Dean’s mouth to his body, everywhere those clever fingers had roamed.  It had been a gift, one he’d barely even acknowledged wanting even to himself, and he would keep it close to his heart for the rest of time. He closed his eyes, fighting the lump in his throat.  The pain he'd been fighting for the past two days began to sneak back and he ground his teeth, trying to force it back.

The door opening startled him bolt upright, lunging for his angel blade.

Dean stopped just inside the room, holding coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.  “Dude, it’s just me!”

Cas stared at him, wordless.  Dean looked much the same as usual, worn leather jacket over faded blue jeans, but there was a smile lurking behind those bright green eyes, a peace that Cas hadn’t seen on Dean’s face in a very long time.

The smile was fading, turning into concern.  “Cas? What is it?”  He set the coffee on the dresser and crossed to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

Cas just shook his head, unable to find the words.  He set the angel blade back on the nightstand with careful precision, refusing to look at Dean.  “I thought…” He shrugged.  “It doesn’t matter.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and caught the angel’s wrist.  “Look at me, man.”  He waited until Cas lifted his gaze and met Dean’s.

The hunter tilted his head, understanding dawning.  “You thought I left.”

Cas chewed on the corner of his mouth and didn’t answer.

He didn’t expect Dean to start laughing.  He jerked his head up, wounded, and glared at Dean, who was chortling helplessly.

Dean flapped a hand.  “Sorry,” he gasped, and Cas glared harder.

Pushing aside the covers, he swung his legs out of bed but Dean caught him before he could stand up, his giggles finally subsiding.

“Cas,” he said, wrapping his hand around Castiel’s forearm.  “I would never do that to you, man.”

Castiel looked down at Dean’s hand where it lay on his arm.  “Your stuff was gone.”  He kept his voice even and as emotionless as possible.

Dean glanced around the room, surprised.  “I didn’t even unpack last night,” he said.  “My bag is in the bathroom.”  He squeezed Cas’s arm and his voice was sober now, no trace of mirth left. “I had the best night of my life last night; how could you think I’d just walk out on you after that? That would be a serious douche move, even if I _hadn’t_ had mind-blowing sex with you!”

Cas shrugged. “You’re not gay.”

Dean snorted. “I’m not sure there’s a label for what I am.  What I do know is this: I’d be a fool to let you out of my sight again.”

Cas finally looked up. 

Dean’s eyes were warm.  “You idiot,” he said, and the affection in his voice was clear.

Cas cleared his throat.   “I didn’t…I don’t…I am not good at this.”

“Makes two of us,” Dean said.  “Also, if we talk about our feelings any longer, one or both us might start growing girl parts, so what do you say we shut up for awhile?”

Cas felt a smile tugging at his lips.  “If shutting up involves kissing, I am in favor of this idea.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Dean breathed, and closed the distance between them.

His early morning stubble rubbed pleasantly against Cas’s skin and Cas tasted coffee and pastry on the hunter’s tongue, which delved impatiently between Cas’s lips. The angel bit back a moan and opened his mouth, giving Dean better access to nip at his lip and slide his tongue back inside in teasing darts.

Finally Cas pulled away, trembling.  Dean tilted his head and looked at him inquiringly.  “You okay?” he asked.

Cas nodded and stood up, crowding between Dean’s legs where he sat. Dean tilted his head back to look up at him, resting his hands on Cas’s hips just above his boxers. He smiled, rubbing his thumbs in small circles against Cas’s bare skin.

Cas shivered and pushed Dean backwards onto the bed.  His voice was thick and low as he murmured, “You have too many clothes on.”

Dean unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them down over his hips and getting tangled in Cas, who was straddling him and trying to pull his shirt off at the same time. Cas growled in frustration and yanked. Dean yelped as the shirt ripped.

“C’mon dude, I love that shirt!”

Cas ignored him and dragged his jeans and boxers down until they got stuck on Dean’s boots.  He began tugging at them futilely until Dean laid his hands over the angel’s.

“Cas. It’s not a race. Let me help.”  Gently he pushed the angel’s hands away and within a few seconds had his boots off and was kicking his jeans and underwear into a pile. Fully naked, he stretched back out on the bed and grinned up at his lover.

Cas just looked at him for several long moments, drinking in the sight before him. Dean’s chest was hard and lean, with the long, sinewy muscle that came from digging graves and fighting monsters, not the carefully sculpted shapes that came from the gym. Dark hair dusted his chest and stretched in a teasing trail down his flat stomach to the nest of curls at the top of his thighs.  His cock was flushed and fully hard, resting against his stomach.

Cas’s mouth was dry, he realized distantly.

Dean squirmed, getting self-conscious.  “Dude. I know I said it wasn’t a race, but you’re more than welcome to _speed things along_ any time now.  Like maybe before I spontaneously combust?”

“I didn’t get to see you last night,” Cas whispered.  “Not really.  You are beautiful, Dean.” He lifted his eyes to Dean’s, knowing the hunter would see the heat in his gaze.

Dean shivered and held out his arms.  “Get up here.”

Cas smiled, dark and full of promise.  “No.”

Consternation flashed across Dean’s face.  “Uh…”

“I want to try…what you did to me last night.”

Dean swallowed audibly. “Oh.  Oh God.”

Cas settled himself between Dean’s legs, still not touching, just looking.

Dean hadn’t thought it possible but he found himself getting even harder under the weight of that dark blue gaze.  “Cas…” he managed, his voice strangled, but whatever he was going to say was instantly forgotten when the angel’s hot mouth engulfed his cock.

Dean flailed, grabbing at the bedcovers, gasping.  Cas wasn’t trying to establish a rhythm; he was tasting, teasing, exploring with his lips and tongues as if mapping out a new civilization. That was fine by Dean; he was happy to be conquered by Cas any day.

One hand settled in Castiel’s dark hair, not demanding, just delighting in the sensations rushing through him.  Cas swirled his tongue around the head of Dean’s dick and Dean arched his back, moaning.

“I can’t…can’t last…” he choked.  It was too much. He was drowning in sensation, pleasure rushing over him in waves that were steadily building to their peak.

Castiel pulled his mouth away just long enough to say, “Let go.   I have you, Dean.”

At the sound of his name in the angel’s mouth, Dean’s orgasm overtook him and he came so hard his toes curled, groaning desperately as Castiel sealed his lips around his cock and swallowed hard, again and again.

The aftershocks trembled through him, fine, tiny vibrations that made his arms and legs quiver in minute spasms. 

Castiel lifted his head and wiped his mouth before settling on his side with his head on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean couldn’t remember how to talk.  It took him several tries to get his tongue to cooperate.  “Was that…really your first time doing that?”

Cas nodded, satisfaction warm in his chest.  “Did you like it?”

Dean snorted, combing his fingers through Castiel’s hair.  “Did I like it.  That’s like asking if I like _pie._ That was _intense._ ” He reached across his body with his other arm, going for the angel’s boxers, but Cas stopped him.

“Later. This…I just want this for now.”

Dean hummed agreement, eyes drooping.  “Gonna spoil you rotten later,” he promised, his voice already blurring with sleep.

Cas pressed a kiss to his shoulder.  “I look forward to it.  Rest now.”

 

******

 

When Dean opened his eyes, he had a crick in his neck and he couldn’t feel his shoulder. He turned his head as much as he could, which wasn’t far, and realized that there was an angel asleep on his arm.

“You’re heavier than you look,” Dean whispered, overtaken by a ridiculous surge of affection.

Castiel stirred and sighed, curling tighter into Dean’s side.  His face was childlike and open in his sleep, unguarded and peaceful.  Dean swallowed hard. _Fuck._ This wasn’t a fling for him, some fun to be had between cases.  He’d known that, deep down, but seeing Cas wrapped around him, so damn trusting and vulnerable, brought it home with a terrifying finality.

He was in love.  With an angel. A _guy_ angel.

He squeezed his eyes shut.  Sam was going to tease the _shit_ out of him.

When he opened his eyes again, Castiel was regarding him, face somber.

Thrown, Dean fumbled.  “Hey. Um.  Hey.  Uh…sleep well?”

“I’ve loved you since I first touched your soul,” Cas said, his voice that deep gravelly rumble that made Dean shiver.

Dean blinked. “Were you…can you read my mind, man?”

Cas sat up, not looking away.  “You think you don’t deserve good things.  That you’ve done terrible things and where you belong is back in hell.”

Dean rubbed his face.  “It’s too early for psycho-analyzation, Cas.”

Cas took his wrist, pulling his hand away from his eyes.  “The second I touched your soul, I _knew._ ”

“Knew what?” Dean couldn’t help but ask.

“You care more deeply, love more fiercely, than anyone I’ve ever met.” He splayed his hand over Dean’s shoulder, covering the handprint.  Dean shivered and it had nothing to do with being naked.  “I marked you.  I raised you from the pit.” Castiel’s eyes were suddenly fierce.  “ _I love you, Dean Winchester._ ”

Dean was suddenly choking on the tidal wave of emotions swamping him.  He couldn’t speak, so instead he sat up, grabbed Cas’s head, and kissed him desperately, clinging to him like a drowning man, devouring his mouth. He was aware of Cas kissing him back, arms going around him as they sank back to the mattress.

“Cas,” Dean gasped against the angel’s mouth.

Cas groaned, kissing his way down Dean’s throat.

Dean’s head fell back and his eyelids fluttered shut.  He was hardening rapidly and Cas’s hands were roaming lower, grazing his belly and skimming his hips.  Dean sucked in a breath when one lean hand found Dean’s cock and began to stroke.

“Cas,” Dean managed, his voice shaking.  “Please may I fuck you?”

Cas’s hand froze and Dean met his eyes, suddenly worried.  Had he overstepped?

Slowly, a smile broke out across the angel’s face, setting his blue eyes dancing. Cupping Dean’s face in his hands, he kissed him slow and deep.  “I would like that very much,” he whispered.

Dean grinned back, suddenly, incandescently happy.  “Hold that thought.”  He jumped off the bed and ran for the tiny bathroom, digging in his bag before emerging, triumphant, with lube in one hand and a pack of condoms in the other. He stopped short at the sight of the naked angel sprawled on the bed waiting for him, all pale limbs and dark hair, and swallowed hard. 

Finally he shook himself and climbed on the bed, settling on his knees next to the other man.  “Before you start thinking I’m sleeping my way across the state,” he said, holding up the condoms, “These are several years old.  For some reason I just haven’t been on my game when it comes to getting lucky lately.”

Castiel’s lips quirked and he reached for the condoms, opening one of the packets.

“Wait,” Dean said, stopping his hand.  “We need to prepare you first.”

Castiel blinked, confused.

Dean couldn’t help his smile.  Leaning down, he kissed the angel between his furrowed brows and then moved down to his lips. “Trust me,” he murmured against them. Cas sighed and closed his eyes, tipping his head back.  Dean kissed the throat so trustingly offered and crawled back down the angel’s body until he was crouched between his legs.

At the first touch of Dean’s slick finger, Cas jerked and gasped.  Dean circled the rim, touching lightly, kissing Cas’s thigh and knee until his legs relaxed.  Only then did he press inside, sliding in up to his first knuckle. Cas moaned.

“Okay?” Dean whispered, throat tight.

Cas nodded, eyes still shut.  “Don’t stop.”

Dean began to work his finger in and out, getting further in with each gentle thrust, avoiding Cas’s prostate, until the angel was shaking, desperate.

“More,” he demanded.

“Are you sure?” Dean said.  He was so turned on he was aching, but this was too important to rush.

Castiel opened his eyes, spearing Dean with an intense, dark blue gaze. “ _More,_ ” he growled.

Dean grinned. Sliding his index finger out, he straightened his middle finger and sank them both back inside. Cas arched his spine, cock leaking a puddle onto his stomach, and cried out.  The smell of sex, thick and hot, filled the room.  Dean swallowed hard and crooked his finger, grazing the angel’s prostate.  Cas nearly came off the bed with a bitten off shout, eyes wild, clenching desperately at the blanket beneath him.

“Like that, did you?” Dean breathed.  God, this was amazing.  He wanted to stay like this for hours, taking the beautiful man in front of him to pieces one agonizing step at a time before putting him back together.

“More,” Castiel moaned.

“Jeez, Cas, already?” He scissored his fingers, enjoying the way the angel writhed.

When he’d gotten his breath back, Cas glared at him.  “Stop torturing me,” he ordered.

Dean grinned and planted a kiss on the other man’s knee.  “But that’s the best part!  Okay, okay,” when Cas’s expression turned murderous, “We’ll get there, I promise.”

He pulled out to apply some more lube, loving the whimper the removal of his hand wrung from the angel.  Then he straightened his ring finger and pressed back in.  Cas sobbed, clutching at his hair in an effort to keep from touching himself.

Dean licked his lips.  He was in a prime position to slide Cas’s cock into his mouth and he desperately wanted to, but he had the feeling that the second he touched it, it would be game over. So instead he pushed his face against the crook of Cas’s knee, tasting the clean sweat and arousal on his skin as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out.

It felt like hours by the time Dean judged Cas to be as ready as he could make him. The angel was limp on the bed, drenched in perspiration, an arm draped over his eyes as Dean pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the blanket before hastily applying the condom. Finally he shuffled into position, gripping Cas and sliding the angel’s hips up onto his thighs.

He waited until Cas moved his arm and met his eyes.

“Sure?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded wordlessly, bereft of the power of speech.

Biting his lip, Dean brought the head of his cock up to Cas’s hole and began to sink in. Breaching the inner ring of muscle, he froze, terrified, when Cas moaned, and started to pull out.

“ _No,_ ” Cas snarled, grabbing his arms.  “Don’t stop, Dean. Please…”

Dean braced himself and searched Cas’s face.  All he saw was need, desperate and aching, in the dark blue eyes that met his. Biting his lip again, he nodded and reversed direction. 

It was different from making love to a woman.  Tighter, hotter.  Different, but every bit as good.  Dean slid in until his hips were flush against Castiel’s ass, then pulled back in a tortuous drag that had them both groaning at the feeling.  Eventually he established a steady rhythm, hips snapping forward and punching the air out of Cas’s lungs with every thrust, his hands roaming freely over his lover’s chest and stomach.  He dragged his still lubricated hand through the pre-come that coated Castiel’s skin and wrapped that hand around the angel’s cock, beginning a firm counter-stroke. Cas writhed, trying to move in two directions at once, and suddenly Dean couldn’t bear it any longer. He folded over the angel’s hips, fitting their mouths together without losing the rhythm of his thrusts, letting his belly provide Cas’s dick with the slippery friction it desperately needed.

Breaking for air, he kissed the angel’s jaw and then worried a little bruise against his collarbone.  “Mine,” he whispered, planting his lips there one more time before returning to Cas’s swollen, welcoming mouth.

Castiel gasped brokenly against him and Dean, recognizing the signs, pulled back enough to grip his cock again.  “That’s it, baby, let go,” he crooned and Cas arched his back with a helpless sound, wetness splashing Dean’s fist and stomach.  Dean gentled him through it, planting kisses up and down his jawline and on the angel’s closed eyes until the trembling slowed.

Only then did his hips finally began to lose their rhythm and he buried his face in Castiel’s neck as his movements became erratic.  Cas’s hands bracketed his ribs, encouraging him without words, and Dean thrust once, twice, and then spent himself deep within his lover, shuddering desperately before letting his shaking arms collapse and ending up in an undignified sprawl across Cas’s body.

When he came back to himself, Cas was running his hands up and down his torso, speaking in a low voice.   It took awhile for Dean to decipher the words. 

“…for You created his inmost being; You knit him together in his mother’s womb.  I praise You because he is fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

Dean lifted his head.  “Did you just paraphrase Psalm 139 at me?”

Cas smiled at him, a world of tenderness and love in his eyes.  “Not at you.  At my Father, thanking Him for you.”

 

FIN


End file.
